


Coming Home

by DustySoul



Series: Gender Feels Scrap Drawer [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Disabled Character, Clones, Disabled Character, F/M, Gender Issues, Physical Disability, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4729217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Wilson returns to New York. He always returns to New York. It's... it's a little stupid. He's waiting. Waiting for the Winter Soldier to show up on his door step, in the coffee shop round the corner, somewhere a long these streets.</p><p> </p><p>  <span class="small"></span><br/><i> little does he know it already happened </i><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr as dusty-soul

Sam returns to New York. Sam returns to New York. Sam returns to New York.

Sometimes it’s after a week, sometimes it’s a month. Once he was gone for a year.

But he always returns to New York. 

 

It’s two in the morning and the streets are beautiful, especially in these well worn places not quite touched by gentrification. He understands why Steve think Bucky might be drawn to a place like this. He hasn’t spent much time in the cramped little row house but it’s already become a part of his bones.

He returns to New York because it calls him back.

He breathes in the night air. There’s magic here. Heat rises off the asphalt along with the energy of thousands and thousands of people living their lives -thrumming against the city like tires down Broad Street.

 

He rounds the corner onto his block and can feel it - _almost home._ His arms are sore form carrying the box of HYDRA files. (He couldn’t get a parking space near the house.) They keep hitting his thighs, probably leaving a bruise. Still, his heart lifts when he sees that porch light on.

_Almost home._

It won’t be an empty, dusty house that greets him, abandoned while he was away.

_Almost home._

And he feels, a little bit, like he can fly.

 

And then his phone rings. It’s Steve.

Sam has to set the box down to fish the damn thing out of his pocket.

“Yes?” He asks, trying not to sound as tired as he suddenly feels. It’s been a long, long day. He can almost think of that row house has home. And he wants to be there, sink into the arm chair and put his feet on the coffee table.

“Hi Sam, any luck?”

“I would have called you already if I found him.”

“I know- I- I meant…”

“Fine, Steve,” He clears his throat, “it went fine. Didn’t get shot or stabbed so-” He shrugs and lets out a long breath. “Yeah, lucky.”

“That’s good.”

“It’s work.”

Steve’s silent for a long time before he finally says, “It shouldn’t be.”

Sam had almost calmed down. “Don’t start.” He warns. It’s an argument they’ve had too many times already.

_You shouldn’t have quit your job._

_I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it was worth it. I can make my own decisions, Steve._

_I don’t blame you, for not believing in him like I did._

_It’s not about that, Steve._

_You didn’t have to come to New York._

_You know damn well I did. If you think there’s a chance he’ll come here, I’ll take it. It’s fine._

They never argue about him storming HYDRA bases by himself with Steve off Avenging - just the road that brought them here. They hadn’t planned for it, any of it. Steve was just doing  what he had to, saving the world, and Sam was covering his six.

“Besides, I kind of like it here.”

Steve snorts, but he doesn’t call out the lie.

And Sam doesn’t ask when Steve will be back because he knows the answer is never. The conversation dies down again, the line still live and crackling against Sam’s ear.

Normally Sam would make some joke, say something light hearted. He would be able to hear Steve’s smile over the line.

Instead Steve just says, “Take care, Sam.” And he’s not smiling. Not even a little bit.

“You too, buddy.”

It’s the best they can do now.

Sam hauls up the box again and walks toward that porch light. It’s the only one on this late at night.

 

He lets himself in, dumping the box in the narrow entryway and stepping over it. Faded manilla files scatter. He doesn’t care, he’ll deal with it later.

“I’m home.” He calls, rounding into the small living room.

Jamie is sitting on the sofa with a book.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

She smiles at him.

It’s an argument they’ve never had.

“The cat has a little bump on her belly. I don’t know if she should be taken to the vet.”

Sam nods, coming to sit in that heavenly arm chair. He sighs, sinking into the cushions.

“The tulips didn’t bloom.”

“Shame, you worked so hard on them.”

Jamie shrugs.

He’d been there for that, seen her working everyday for a week planting the bulbs.

“What are you reading?”

“Isaac Asimov, the short stories.”

“Weren’t you reading that last time?”

“Might have been, I’ve forgotten.”

He relaxes into the night. Cars zoom by in the night on streets far away. There are sirens, and the rumbling of the train. And right here there is Jamie, humming under her breath and reading a classic.

“It’s nice, I guess. To be able to reread a book and not know how it ends.”

He cracks open an eye to make sure she’s smiling. Her smile is like the sun rise, lighting up her face.

“I wouldn’t know.” She says.

And then it’s gone, and Sam maybe wishes he’d missed it because she looks haunted when she’s not smiling, but he doesn’t normally notice.

“Anything else?”

Jamie shrugs, “Standard, I guess. Things broke, I fixed them. Some boys put a baseball through one of the windows. That was ages ago. There’s food in the fridge. I’m not sure what, soup, probably.”

“It’s fine.” Sam tells her, has her brow creases with the effort of remembering. “I like the surprise.”

 

After another comfortable silence she says, “You should go to sleep, Sam. You’ll get a crick in your neck.”

And Sam realizes that he’d drifted off. “You’re right, I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He heaves himself up and heads to his bedroom.

He’s stopped thinking of the other one as Steve’s a long time ago.


	2. Chapter 2

<turns out that this really, really wants to be a super long and intense fic and I have to do a lot more prep before posting.>

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


End file.
